


Crowley's nightmare

by Anonymous



Series: Wee Omens [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Firm and loving Aziraphale, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Angst, Nightmares about burning bookshops, Omorashi, Sleepy humping, Sub Crowley, bed wetting, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 09:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20273398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Crowley has been having nightmares. Aziraphale has been comforting him.Prompt: Subby, needy, Crowley wetting the bed and needing to be comforted (in more ways than one) by his angel.





	Crowley's nightmare

Aziraphale was used to the sweet little murmurs made by his bedfellow. He found it adorable. He especially liked it when Crowley would cuddle up and lightly hump him, half awake, with a shy smile. It appeared to be an effective way for this demon to seek comfort and relaxation. A few ruts and the demon would sigh contently and fall asleep in his angel's arms. 

But the past two weeks had been different. Crowley had started talking more in his sleep, and the tone was unsettling. 'Where are you?' he would intone. 'Bastards,' he would whimper. 'Best friend,' he would gasp.

Aziraphale simply held him tighter and stroked his hair. But the past two nights, Crowley had started to cry those things out. He was deeply unaware of it, so the angel shushed and settled him, and he would calm down again.

Tonight was no different - the same sorts of words, murmured and mumbled at first, and then shouts. 

'Aziraphale!' he cried.

'It's all right Crowley, I'm right here.'

'Fire!' the demon continued. 'Bastards.'

'Shush now, Crowley. It's okay.' Aziraphale stroked him and kissed him, but this was getting out of hand, he thought. He'd mentioned the bad dreams to Crowley in the daytime, but the demon shrugged it off. 

'Water,' came a light murmur.

'Thirsty?' asked Aziraphale, assuming his demon had woken up.

Instead, Crowley twisted in the warm bedding, apparently now quiet. His breathing seemed to slow down to a nice, regular pace.

Aziraphale waited to be sure he had settled, then set about falling back to sleep himself. 

'Water,' said the demon again. 'Window. Wet. No!' Crowley sat bolt upright, and then they were both awake. 

Aziraphale reached for the light and a orangey glow filled the room. He sat up and put his hand on the demon's shoulder. 

'Crowley, are you all right?'

'Yeah,' lied Crowley, hair sticking up, forehead glistening with sweat. He wriggled and peeped under the covers, then looked at Aziraphale. 'Fine,' he said, squirming some more, and putting the cover back down. He sat very still and looked anywhere but at his angel.

The angel narrowed his eyes, then felt something on his leg. Wetness. He too glanced under the cover. Oh dear.

'I mean,' said Crowley, realising he'd been rumbled. 'Apart from the fact I just wet the bed.' He shuddered into tears. 'I hate fire,' he sobbed. 

'Oh, Crowley, it's okay!' said Aziraphale, leaping into action. He got out of the bed on his side and dashed around to Crowley, who was still in a state of mild shock, and seemingly still partly living the nightmare he'd having all this time.

'It's all right.' The angel sat on the side of the bed and pulled Crowley out of the wet and onto his lap. He waved away the soaked sheet, replacing it with a newly laundered one, fresh as a daisy.

Crowley buried his face in the nook of his angel's neck. Aziraphale rocked him. His demon was all crumpled and soggy, tears rolling down his face and underpants thoroughly wet. As if performing some kind of angelic reiki, Aziraphale graced his hand over his demon’s thighs, underwear and t-shirt, freshening everything up. Crowley wriggled appreciatively but was still hiding his face, unable to shake off the feelings that had hit him so hard in his dream.

'Shush, Crowley. You had a very bad nightmare. You were terribly distressed. It happens.'

'Am I in trouble?' he asked sleepily.

'Of course not,' said Aziraphale, his heart breaking at the very idea. 'But I do want you to tell me what you're dreaming about.'

Crowley twisted in his lap.

‘Crowley,’ warned the angel gently. ‘You’ve been saying things in your sleep for some time now. You’re having the same nightmare and it’s distressing you. I want you to tell me about it, please.’

Crowley took a deep breath. He couldn't be embarrassed about it now, he supposed. Not now he'd wet the bed with his angel in it.

'The bookshop,' Crowley said. 'I keep going back there. And it's on fire. And you're dead.'

'Aha,' said Aziraphale. 'Because it burned down in the other reality, before Adam changed things.'

There was a pause. The demon tensed. 'Yes,' he said.

Aziraphale sensed he wasn't telling him everything. 'And the broken window?'

'What?'

'When you talk in your sleep, you mentioned a broken window. And water.'

Crowley shrugged. 'The firefighter aimed the hose through the window to put the fire out.'

'He did?' asked Aziraphale, evenly.

Another pause. The angel kissed Crowley's temple. 'My dear, is there any chance you were there when this was actually happening?'

Crowley didn't answer.

'Crowley, sweetheart, did you go back for me?'

The demon nodded and sobbed into Aziraphale's shoulder. 

'Oh, my dear boy. You found the shop on fire, and me gone. Oh I'm so sorry.' He rocked him steadily. 

Crowley sniffed. 'I got hit with a water cannon hose thing. It broke your window. You were dead.'

'I’m not dead. I’m right here. And now you’ve told me, it doesn’t have to stay living inside you anymore.'

Crowley sat up and wiped his tears away. 'Do you think it will go now?'

'Let's hope so. In any case, I'll be right here.'

'And if I wet the bed again?' asked Crowley, as if it would be the end of the world.

'I'll miracle it away again,' answered Aziraphale firmly. 'But you, my wicked one, were wrong not to tell me what happened. You should have told me.'

Crowley slumped in his arms, remembering that day, that hellish moment. 

Aziraphale gave him a squeeze. 'I expect you didn't because you didn't want me to know how it had made you feel. Am I right?'

Crowley huffed and nodded.

'Well,' said Aziraphale, a little sternly. 'Pride comes before a fall.'

Crowley pouted at that. Stupid saying, he thought. 

'Come on then,' said Aziraphale, with nuzzle to his demon's neck. 'We're all safe and dry here. Shall we try to go back to sleep?'

Crowley made a sort of grumbling noise, but allowed himself to be laid down and tucked in. Aziraphale got back into his side of the bed and Crowley instantly cuddled up to him. With a deep breath, the angel allowed his wings to fully extend then wrap around his demon. Crowley was falling back to sleep now. 

A little while later, there was a sweet murmur, the kind Aziraphale had missed from his snuggly demon. Crowley wriggled against him, safe and warm, lazily humping the angel's hip. 

'Oh Crowley,' cooed Aziraphale, resigning himself to a dreadful night's sleep. The demon smiled and carried on contentedly. The angel gently pushed his thumb into the demon’s mouth, knowing how much Crowley liked to suck or lick while getting off, hoping to expedite his pleasure so Aziraphale could finally get some sleep. Eyes closed, Crowley suckled on the thumb with a moan. The lazy writhing became needy ruts and gasps. The angel held him tightly, still providing a cocoon of feathers, and delighting in the fact his demon seemed back to his old self. 

Crowley's breathing was increasingly ragged, and he sucked hard on his angel's thumb, grinding away until he came in his underpants with a soft cry, and was immediately asleep.

Aziraphale smiled. He considered cleaning him up again, but decided there were worse things than waking up with a naughty little demon stuck to your hip. So he let it be and joined Crowley in a long, deep, restorative slumber. 


End file.
